Saturday, 22 September 2012

I'm still alive, dear blog readers, but quite low on stamina and this illness thing is just a pain. They have ruled out anything tumour related, Deo Gratias, but this doesn't make me well. I'm trying to get them to investigate further, as things are getting worse, but they feel like they've done their job. So I plod on. A friend said to me, perhaps I'm destined to become the patron saint of "just getting on with it". I don't suppose I should argue with that and certainly I don't want to throw in the towel, but I am very weary.

So life is a little surreal. Nobody seems to appreciate what my illness is like and everyone says how well I look. When I tell people this illness is like being permanently drunk (with added nerve damage), they certainly don't seem to see it is a problem. It is a problem; being in charge of a class of children, driving, having responsibilities, all these are a problem if you are drunk.

When I return to school on Monday and go into the staffroom, I'll be faced with the inevitable question, "have you had a good weekend?". Does anyone else have a problem with this? There is one obvious problem, that the person that asks it isn't really interested. A second problem is that if you actually told them what makes a weekend good, they'd probably mark you down as a weirdo (and I am still debating with myself whether I should mind being a weirdo, would it make me a good ambassador for the faith). Here are some of the things I've wanted to say:

Yes the weekend was lovely, I got to such and such a church for the feast of St So and so and the Mass was beautiful.

Yes, I was able to say Lauds outside as the sun was rising

Yes, the collect this week is really inspiring

Yes, I've discovered the chaplet of St Michael and it has really produced a great strengthening of my resolve.

Yes, I overcame some tricky stuff in my spiritual battles, thanks be to God.

Yes, my main prayer intention is a shaping my life quite profoundly and I can't quite believe that God would deign to let me be involved with something so gently beautiful.

Usually, I come out with the standard half-truth to the questions which is "Oh yes, it was a good weekend, saw some good friends and it was relaxing, what about you?". People are expecting something like this and it seems to do the trick.

Then I wonder, it can't just be religious nutters like me that have problems telling the truth in answer to this question; and I suddenly feel some sympathy for sadomasochists.What would happen in the staffroom if someone turned round and said "yes, I had a great weekend, I found this marvellous woman to walk up and down my back in stilettos and chains whilst giving me some grief with a bullwhip". They too must remain silent about the truth of their lives....

I have no idea how this weekend will pan out. Today has been like most days; it has been hazy, hard work yet prayerful and I've been somewhat indifferent to its charms and inconveniences.